


Drink & Jive

by CaptainMorgan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, Excessive use of italics, ISH. Slow burn ISH., M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partying, Slow Burn, first voltron fic and first fic on Ao3 be gentle w/ me, i have no idea what i'm doing lmao, keith and shiro are adoptive brothers, keith in croptops is the reason i'm writing this, lance hates keith then wants to get in his pants then falls for him whoops, shiro is beautiful and everyone has a crush on him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 13:51:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8164141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainMorgan/pseuds/CaptainMorgan
Summary: Lance sees him halfway across the club---Keith. Fucking KEITH. The nerdy asshole who wears lame glasses and too-big sweaters - but tonight he's ditched the massive sweaters for booty shorts and body paint, and Lance officially has enough Fantasy Fodder to last the rest of his college career.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i honestly have no idea what im doing  
> im only here for keith in croptops
> 
> I don't have a beta,  
> please excuse anything that doesn't make sense,  
> I'm new to this shit.
> 
> lmao it's a klance fic i promise. everyone has heart-eyes for shiro tho.

"Can you move your shit?"

It's the first words between them. A poor start, considering the choice of dialogue and the irritable tone with which it comes out.  
Mouth opening, Lance twists to face just who it was that had spoken, and well---the guy standing next to the seat Lance's stuff is piled on is quite... a sight. Definitely a sight.

The dude's wrapped up in a beige turtleneck sweater that looks to be approximately _too many sizes_ too big for him. The sleeves hang down far enough that only the tips of his fingers poke beneath it, though one hand holds a coffee, so the sleeve bunches back at his elbow. Glasses sit perched on his nose, and Lance fights back a snort because he's _two-hundred_ percent certain his grandfather owns the same pair - squarish, but rounded, with a thin black frame. His hair falls around his face in jagged clips, as if he hadn't seen a proper hairdresser in a while---and you know what? Lance finds that entirely likely, because the first word that comes to mind when he sees the LENGTH of the guys hair is _MULLET_ \---

Behind the glasses, the stranger wears a scowl, and Lance recalls that something had been asked, he just can't remember _what_.

"Uh,"

"Dude, your shit." Exasperatedly, the man - ' _man'_. He's another student, just like Lance, just trying to sit down in the lecture hall - gestures to the seat that's SUPPOSED to be empty with, _get this_ , a GLOVED hand. It's not _that_ cold, but this dude is _honest-to-god_ wearing finger-less gloves indoors.

"Oh. Yeah, my bad." There's a noticeable lack of contrition in his voice as he grabs his bag and stuffs it by his feet, because Lance _isn't_ actually all that sorry - his stuff _isn't_ shit, _thanksverymuch_ , but he still delivers an (empty) apology, giving the guy the benefit of the doubt. He may have come across as an asshole to start, but maybe he'll be a little more personable once he gets some of that coffee in his system.

Once the stranger has dropped into the hair with an exhale, Lance goes back to studying the book before him. ...At least, until the guy pops off the lid of his drink, produces some frickin' _sugar packets_ from his _pockets_ , and proceeds to pour _three_ into his cup that's already topped off with whipped cream and caramel drizzle.

"Holy shit," Lance can't help but to snicker, and the stranger stops what he's doing to settle him with a quizzical - _but threatening_ \- look. Despite the glare, Lance continues; "Did you want to add some _coffee_ to your sugar?"

The guy scoffs - _okay, totally just an asshole then_ \- and turns back to the cavity-inducing drink before him without so much as a SYLLABLE in answer.

Understandably, Lance is _offended_. Childishly, and under his breath, he mimics that scoff and turns back to his book. It's alright, it's cool. If Edgy McEdgerson wants to be a douche that's totally fine. It's just a _shame_ \- the sweater that's basically _swallowing_ him and his apparent penchant for sugar is too cute to be wasted on such a rude personality.

 

It's not until the end of the lesson that Lance learns the guy's name. 

The hall starts to clear out, only a few students staying to mingle with friends and make plans for the upcoming weekend - it's Thursday, and Lance should be hunting down his buddies to do the same thing. The only thing that keeps him in place is the sight of the TA, Takashi " _Shiro_ " Shirogane approaching---he moves nearer with grace and determination, his lips curved in a soft smile, and Lance hopes he isn't making that dopey love-struck face Pidge always teases him about.

Shiro walks along one row down, stopping once directly in front of Lance. He opens his mouth to speak, and Lance is already halfway to saying ' _YES_ ' to the inevitable date invitation, but what comes out of the TA's mouth is:

"Keith,"

Lance falters for a moment, thinks to say; " _it's Lance, actually, but I'll forgive you. You can practice saying it against my mouth,_ " then realizes Shiro isn't looking at HIM. He's looking at the grumpy yarn-knit lump of Asshole beside him, which throws him for _two_ loops.

How does the Actual Human Epitome of Gorgeous know this Individual Personification of Shitty Attitudes? Seriously, Shiro's friendly like he's getting PAID for it, and this guy's got the demeanor of a rotten apple. What situation could possibly lead to them becoming familiar with each other???

"What." Keith ( _to be read with a sneer and mocking tone_ ) answers in a clipped voice, and Lance has to fight the urge to place a hand on his chest and act affronted FOR Shiro.  Mostly because Shiro's doing a shitty job of acting affronted for himself, his smile turning _sympathetic_. There's a look to his eyes that suggests he's... disappointed? Upset? If Lance were Keith, he would apologize profusely and promise to do better. He doesn't even _know what the issue is_ , but he'd make that promise anyway.

"Can we talk?" The tone with which Shiro asks it is gentle, like _he's_ the one trying to right some wrong, and Lance is thrown for so many loops it's a surprise he's not dizzy.

"I'd REALLY rather not." It's harsh, and Keith's desire to avoid Shiro is further expressed in the way he stuffs his books away. The man before them sighs as though he'd expected this, and only looks up with surprise when Lance blurts out:

" _Dude_ ,"

Somewhat startled, Keith whips to face Lance, apparently having forgotten that he was _right there_. And yeah, okay, the way his eyes instantly narrow into a glare is totally deserved, but Lance can't just sit by while someone make's Shiro look like THAT. That said, he totally knows Shiro could stand up for himself - he's seen the guy break up fights, defend younger students in arguments, and quiet down raucous discourse in the classroom, he's not _timid_ \- but Lance will not sit idly by if he has the opportunity to say something. ...Even if that something is only an inarticulate and reprimanding ' _dude_.'

" _What_?" Keith echoes from before, only this time there's venom laced in his voice, and Lance reels back as if he just got hit with a verbal bitch-slap. 

Apparently it takes too long for Lance to answer (he's just opening and closing his mouth, like a _fool_ ), because Keith just clicks his tongue, gathers up his things, and storms off leaving nothing behind but a few sugar crystals.

All Lance can do is watch the other exit, but when he speaks, it's addressed to Shiro;

"I didn't think anyone _could_ be mean to you," it earns a laugh that sounds like _love_ , and finally Lance drags his gaze back to look at the TA. 

"He's not always like that," Shiro assures, watching Keith's retreating form with what's now a _fond_ smile, like he's reminiscing The Good Ol' Days of when Keith was not a Complete and Utter Shitlord. "It's just been a rough week for him." _Now_ does Shiro look towards him, and his expression is friendly and makes Lance want to punch Keith for ever making him wear something else.

"We all hit our rough patches, right?"

God, Shiro's got more forgiveness than _Jesus_.  
Lance knows this, because Jesus will never forgive him for all the sinning he plans to do with Shiro in mind.

 

-

"---And he just stomped off like a dick! Like, what the hell? Shiro looked so sad. I wanted to cradle him to my bosom and whisper condolences, ' _you don't need someone who promotes such terrible hairstyles contaminating your sunshine life._ '" Crossing his arms over his chest, Lance mimics doing _exactly that_ as he regales the story of Learning Keith Exists to his friends Hunk and Pidge. "' _The mullet is enough giveaway that he makes poor life choices._ '"

From his side, Hunk chuckles - even if he doesn't find it funny, he laughs because that's what Lance wants to hear, and this is why Lance loves Hunk the most.

Beyond Hunk, Pidge rolls her eyes, leaning forward around their larger friend to settle Lance with an inquisitive look that he already doesn't trust.

"But was he cute?"

"What?" Lance actually balks at that. "Pidge, were you not listening, he's awful---"

"I've been listening. I've been listening for the past _twenty minutes_ you've been going off about this guy, Lance. So, was he _cute_? We already know you're not necessarily attracted to the 'nice' ones."

"Yeah, Lance," Hunk cuts in here, and his expression is so sheepish that Lance forgives him already. "Nyma, for starters..." Hunk goes on to list more names, but Lance blocks him out in order to return to Pidge's earlier question as to whether or not he found Keith, _eugh_ , CUTE. 

"Pidge, do you remember that incident in two-oh-fourteen that we both swore we'd forget?"

And Pidge, like a true friend, answers: "No."

"Good. We're going to treat this exactly the same way. I'm going to forget you ever asked me that."

This apparently warrants a roll of Pidge's eyes, and Lance throws up his arms.

"Really! I'm telling you, this guy's a douche to the highest degree! I thought Shiro was gonna cry! _CRY_!"

He goes into another tangent about how bad Keith really is, just so Pidge understands - _"and anyways, who even wears gloves inside?"_ \- meanwhile Hunk is STILL going down the list of Lance's questionable past-relations.

 

-

After dropping Pidge off at her dorm building, Hunk and Lance have traipsed back to their own, chatting easily on topics that span from their classes to their favorite shows. They enter the building as they talk excitedly about this mecha-show revamp, comparing pros and cons from the newer to the older, but as they pass the windowed wall displaying the rec room on the other side, Lance's steps actually stutter.

There, ducked in front of the vending machine, is a familiar mass of beige _knit and purl_ stitches enveloping a gloomy jerk.

Lance instantly snags Hunk's arm, earning a grunt of confusion as he DRAGS his friend out of view of the windows.

"That's him!" He hisses, gesticulating in the general area of where Keith had been hunched.

"That's---who? Oh, that Keith guy?" Hunk tries to peer around the wall, but Lance takes him by the jaw and guides him into looking over.

"Go to the room."

"Lance." It's the very tone Hunk always uses right before he tells Lance _Not To Do a Thing_ , the one where he draws out the syllables of Lance's name. "What are you---"

"I'm just gonna tell him that he should apologize to Shiro." ~~_And also maybe that he's a Grade-A dick_~~. "That's it. I promise. He's gotta take responsibility for being an ass."

"Maybe I should stick around," _y'know, hold Lance back from starting an altercation if things tip towards that direction_.

"No, Hunk, it's fine. Just---go back to the room. I'll be there soon, okay?" 

The little wiggle of Hunk's nose is a tell-tale sign that he doesn't exactly approve, but he'll comply anyway. As his big friend starts to trudge away towards the elevators, Lance blows him a kiss. And, like, he's just trying to protect Hunk from Small, Dark, and Broody. Lance has a few Choice Words he'd like to share, but considering Keith's attitude from before, he's expecting it to get a little ugly. Although Lance would appreciate the intimidation Hunk provides, he doesn't want to make it seem like he NEEDS it. He can totally take that sweater-wearing ass on by himself if it comes down to it, and he just doesn't want Hunk to end up as collateral damage. 

So, puffing up his chest and squaring his jaw, Lance rounds the corner and stomps into the rec room---

...only to soften his steps when he sees the state of Keith.

The dude's STILL crouched in front of the vending machine, but now he's got his forehead pressed against the front of it, and his eyes look a little glazed over. What was it Shiro had said? He'd had a bad week? It doesn't really excuse the shitty way he'd acted earlier, but Lance finds the fight draining from him. ...Actually, he just feels PITY now.

"Keith?" It's tentative and awkward, and maybe he should just walk out, but Lance feels he can't just leave the guy there for _someone else_ to find. 

Slowly, the other boy turns to look at Lance, and behind those lame glasses is a look of confusion.

It's a much softer expression than all those he'd worn earlier, and for a second Lance wonders if this is - somehow - a totally different guy.

But then recognition flashes across Keith's face, and he tips back. For a second there Lance thinks he might actually FALL back, but Keith catches himself on the sides of the machine before he drops on his ass. 

"You're the guy who didn't move his shit earlier."

Aaand Lance bristles at that.

"Hey, I DID move my shit---"

"And you eavesdropped on me and Shiro."

"You guys were RIGHT NEXT TO ME---"

Keith squints, but then this minuscule smile pulls at his lips, and he looks back to the vending machine. Lance, meanwhile, is suddenly composed of little else besides " _???_ " Who knew Keith could _smile_ \- so effortlessly, too.

"My Milky Way got stuck."

It's Lance's turn to squint, because _what_? Why should he care? Keith's stupid candy bar getting stuck is, LITERALLY, the last thing he cares for. He thinks to say this, but Keith's getting to his feet, and Lance's hackles rise with anticipation. For a moment there no one says anything, they just STARE at each other---  
\---then Keith kicks the machine with a boot, and Lance is rushing forward with a, "Hey, hey!"  
Is he going to keep having to save things from Keith's undeserved wrath?

In surrender, before Lance can grab at him, Keith raises his arms and steps away, voicing statements of defeat;

"I'm done. It was worth a shot. Waste of my fuckin' dollar."

"Dude," Lance blurts in a more docile intonation than before. With a raised brow, Keith meets his gaze, and---he's actually... kind of appealing when he's not glaring. Lance will NEVER tell Pidge so. "You gotta apologize to Shiro."

Clearly Keith hadn't expected it. His face scrunches up and he turns away. Lance notices him toying with the ends of his sleeves, and he can't help but wonder if it's a nervous tick.

"That's none of your business." Keith mutters, and Lance gives a shrug. Yeah, Keith's right, but Lance has always been annoyingly good at butting into other people's lives.

"Maybe not, but he looked really upset after you snapped at him. Whatever happened, I am one-hundred-twenty percent sure he didn't deserve it." 

Keith snorts at that - it's an action that jostles his shoulders. When he glances back to Lance, his countenance is one of curiosity. Under the dark stare, Lance shifts his weight, holding his ground but feeling unnerved by the way Keith seems to assess him. For some moments there's nothing but silence, and Lance assumes that Keith's actually considering it. ...Either that, or he's waiting for Lance to disappear into thin air. 

"...I'll apologize to him." Keith finally responds, affirming Lance's first thoughts. Just before he can give a reply, a _wicked_ grin spreads across Keith's face, parting his lips over pearly white teeth and Lance is absolutely NOT stricken by it---

"---when I'm actually feeling sorry." He finishes, only to then move towards the exit on the other side of the room. Well, he SAUNTERS, and Lance's immediate thought is that it's a MUCH more captivating exit than the one he'd made earlier.

And he's never going to talk to Pidge again, because she can _not_ , under any circumstances, know that his own head came up with that thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is bi.  
> Lance likes butts.  
> But this is one ass he doesn't enjoy so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the positive feedback on chapter 1 !!  
> I wasn't expecting any of that, honestly, so it really brightened me up.  
> Also, it should be noted: I never went to college for more than a week.  
> "So Captain, what are you doing writing a college-au fic?"  
> Struggling. What I'm doing is struggling.

Due to a stumble over a pair of jeans lying on the floor - _"I told you not to leave your stuff on the ground, Lance." "The role of my mother is already_ filled _, Hunk."_ \- Lance arrives to the next day's first class late and with a slight limp.

Now, the luck with this particular class is that the ratio of seats to students is 1:1, so Lance knows there's a seat for him somewhere, he just has to find it.

After some scouring he spots it, except the neighboring seat is occupied by a surprisingly familiar head of Dumb Hair. ...Maybe it's _not_ so surprising. Seriously, no one else has a mullet, and that's because everyone else has _good taste_. For the past day it has actually been all Lance is able to think about - over-sized sweaters, dorky glasses, stupid hair, and that shitty attitude plague his mind, getting him justifiably irate every time Keith pops into his head. For a second there, Lance considers standing, but his ankle whines in protest and he's a big baby, so sitting it is. Fine. Alright. Okay. Cool. Playing nonchalant, he swaggers on over and dumps himself into the seat.

Keith doesn't notice.

Lance makes a show of leaning back with a loud huff. Still no reaction.

\---Not that he really wanted one, _whatever_ , **fine**.

...Except, he _did_ kind of want one. Something to show Keith acknowledged him, because being ignored by this dick - this dick he can't stop thinking of ( _not like that, you sound like Pidge_ ) - has him getting pissed. Like, _what_? Lance figured he'd annoyed the guy enough to at least warrant an _eyeroll_ , but no. Nothing. Nada. Keith remains impressively oblivious to Lance's presence, and that just Will Not Do.

So Lance leans forward again, all prepared to speak up, but---well. Keith is wearing another massive sweater (this one is blue with different colored stars stitched into it) but the neckline is lower, and it puts on display the thin, smooth column of skin that makes up his neck. It's, uh. It's definitely _a neck_. But the thing that really catches his attention is a patch of color on Keith's otherwise pale skin.

"Is that a _HICKEY_?" It comes out way louder than he means it, and at least, like, _all_ the heads turn to look at him - including Keith, of whom immediately smacks a palm over his neck. Lance can't tell if the red now staining his cheeks is from embarrassment or rage. It actually kind of adds a nice touch to Keith's face, and Lance is stuck gaping.  
But, hey, at least he got the guy's attention.

"What the hell, dumbass?" Keith hisses, and yeah, the name-calling is totally deserved, but look - Lance is just surprised that anyone would want to get close enough to Jerk Numero Uno in order to suck on his neck. Well... actually, it is a pretty _nice_ neck. Lance has got no problem admitting that, because he's _five-hundred_ percent certain that anyone who sees the neck would agree. So, he's more surprised that Keith would let anyone that close; he doesn't seem like a very... _amiable_ sort of guy.

Now Lance is trying to figure out who might have braved Keith's piss-poor attitude to mark him. What did they have to do to win him over? Or is it, like, a hate-hickey? Would Lance have a chance of leaving one? ...He only wonders because a neck like that just looks too good to leave alone. To bad he hates the head that's attached to it.

"Hey, assbasket," Keith growls, effectively - _and thankfully_ \- cutting off any dangerous train of thought.

"We gotta work on your insults, buddy," Lance states weakly, but Keith isn't listening and just continues on;

"Mind your own goddamn business."

And Lance can tell by the threatening inflection of his voice that it's not just about right now, but yesterday too. Just _like_ yesterday, he flounders, mouth opening and closing but no vocal reply to be heard. He doesn't quite know _how_ to reply. He _knows_ it isn't his business, but how can he convey that his mouth is _Stupid_ and _Never Stays Shut When it Should_?

He ends up not having to answer, as Shiro and Professor Iverson walk in at that moment, claiming the attention of the room. Keith spares Lance one hard, withering glare, but the effect is weakened by the pink stain still coloring his cheeks. Oh well. All that matters is he now knows of Lance's presence.

 

Soon as class is over, Keith all but bolts for the door. Fleetingly, Lance thinks he should apologize, but---  
\---he'll do that when he's _'sorry'_ ( ~~he's already sorry)~~.

 

-

Thoughts of Keith don't last long.  
It's Friday - or, as Lance lovingly calls it, pre-Saturday - which means it's time to text friends and make plans for the weekend.

 **[Groupchat >> Shiro's Our Hero**  
**Participants > Get Cr(h)unk (Hunk), Pidgeotto (Pidge), Sir Lancelot (Lance), Princess Mom (Allura)]**

 **[Lance]** guys. tomorrow. lets Get Dr(h)unk.

 **[Hunk]** tomorrow? wasn't last weekend enough? the next morning was awful. :(

 **[Lance]** yeah but tomorrows saturday. no classes for two days. you can drink again until the pain goes away.

 **[Pidge]** That's a terrible method of coping with a hangover.

 **[Lance]** but it works

 **[Pidge]** Until Monday's hangover hits. But no. Tomorrow won't work. The robotics club is having a meet-up, and I'm taking Hunk.

 **[Lance]** what? no way! you only get hunk on sundays, tuesdays, and thursdays! we talked about this!

 **[Pidge]** _You_ talked about this.

 **[Hunk]** sorry Lance. :( it sounds really cool. you can come if you want?? :)

 **[Lance]** i want to come alright, and that wont happen at a robotics club.

 **[Pidge]** GROSS, LANCE.

 **[Hunk]** why do you always have to turn my words into something dirty??

 **[Lance]** you make it too easy

 **[Hunk]** you're too easy  >:(

 **[Lance]** _did you just---_

 **[Pidge]** I'm proud of you, Hunk.

 **[Hunk]** :)

 **[Lance]** are you there, allura? its me, BETRAYED and HURT

 **[Hunk]** :(

 **[Allura]** I'm here. Looks like you've got unfortunate news. Alone, on a Saturday night?

 **[Lance]** i know. who does that. nerds, that's who.

 **[Hunk]** >:(

 **[Allura]** I know raves aren't typically your thing, but I'm going to a party at ' _Solar Sound Systems_ ' tomorrow.

 **[Allura]** You can come with, Lancelot.

Lance takes a moment to weigh the pros and cons. Yeah, raves AREN'T really his thing. They're too loud, too bouncy, and all the lights start to make him dizzy after a while. ...But it'll be Saturday, his only other friends are choosing to hang out with ROBOTS over HIM, and he really doesn't want to spend his night alone in the dorm watching terrible TV shows. ...That's what tonight is for.

 **[Lance]** ah yeah. might as well.

 **[Lance]** every princess needs a knight ;)

 **[Pidge]** You signed yourself up for this, Allura.

 

Despite the rest of the days classes _dragging on_ , it still feels EARLY by the time Lance is finished for the day.  
With nothing else to do, he heads for his dorm, all ready to whine and mope at Hunk over the other having made plans without him. And yeah, sure, Lance now has plans too, but he can't let it go without complaining at least a LITTLE. He'll bitch and moan until Hunk feels pity for him, and maybe he can use that to his advantage to make the other feel bad enough to agree to watching some cheesy TV shows with him. It's all he'll aim for - he wouldn't complain enough to make Hunk cancel with Pidge to make plans with him, because Hunk is free to choose what he wants to do. He also just knows that Lance is incapable of _not_ making a big deal out of everything.

The only problem is that when Lance gets back to the room, it's void of Hunk.  
...And also their television.

No hesitation before he's pulling his cell out and dialing up 'Funk Garrett.'

"Hey, snookums." There's no chance for Hunk to answer after pick-up before Lance gets all passive-aggressive on him. "Ummm, where's our TV?"

"It broke."

"It... broke."

"Yeah. Can you not hear me?" Towards the end there Hunk's voice gets quieter, as though he's pulling back his phone to check their connection. 

"I can hear you fine, I just--- _how_?"

"Uh. Probably because it's, like, almost thirty years old? This picture has been coming in green for _three weeks_ , Lance."

"So, what, we just don't have a TV now? You're majoring in ENGINEERING, can't you fix it?"

" _Geotechnical_ engineering---I can't fix a TV. ...Besides, I told Pidge she could use it for pieces in her robotics class tomorrow."

"You gave our TV to _PIDGE_?" Lance squawks. Now, Lance loves Pidge. She's great. There's a _reason_ they've been inseparable friends for so long. But now she's taking his best friend _AND_ his TV. He can't believe it.

"I can't believe it."

"I'm sorry? If it makes you feel better, my mom said she has one we can take---"

 "Yeah, but what do I do in the meantime?" As previously mentioned, Lance is incapable of NOT making a big deal out of everything.

"Use the one in the rec room? No one's ever down there."

"Yeah," Lance scoffs, "because they all have their own TVs."

"Look, I'm sorry man, but we're just not in that collective anymore---oh, crap, gotta go. Pidge brought out a hammer."

" _Hammer_? Can we say a few words first?" He doesn't get that chance, because in the next second Hunk's hanging up.

The following moments are spent just looking sadly at the space atop the short shelf where their television used to live, followed by Lance throwing up his arms and conceding to spending his evening down in the rec room.

 

-

There's this saying.  
It goes, ' _when you hear a word, you will hear it again within the next twenty-four hours._ '  
Lance is experiencing that, but with _Keith_.  
There, in front of the vending machine again is that very man, wearing the expected scowl and giant sweater (and seriously, why the large sweaters? His pants are, like, WOMEN'S SKINNYS, but the sweaters must be Lumberjack Medium).

Before he's really aware of it, Lance is calling out to him;

"You're not gonna kick it again, are you?"

Lifting his head, Keith catches sight of Lance and instantly his scowl just darkens. It's enough to make the latter freeze in place.

"I already tried." It's the response Keith gives, followed by; "What do you want?"

"Maybe I just want some Skittles." Lance shrugs, not wanting Skittles at all.

"Shit." A huff, and Keith looks back to the machine. Lance no longer feels like he's about to get struck down by laser-eyes. "You and me both."

This guy REALLY has a sweet-tooth, huh? It doesn't at all fit with his dark persona, and Lance actually snorts.  
Seemingly stunned, Keith faces him again, but the shocked curiosity makes him look like a startled _kitten_ , and Lance ends up laughing harder.  
...Then Keith's back to being Grumpy Cat, pursing his lips and waiting for the other's amusement to die down.

When finally it does, it's so Lance can explain the real reason he's down there.

"I'm just here to monopolize the TV. My roomie gave ours to an evil genius. If an army of robots comes after you, just look for the one with the green tinted screen - it's faulty and weak and will go down easy."

"Uh."

"I'm gonna watch some Defender of the Universe." Lance moves to the right to drop himself ceremoniously down on the couch. There's already some sports channel playing on the big screen, but he grabs the remote and switches on over to Netflix.

"Some... _what?_ It sounds familiar..." Keith is the only other person in the room, but somehow hearing him say that is a surprise. It sounds like he's _FURTHERING CONVERSATION_ , which is not at all something Lance would've thought he'd want to do.

Don't they, like, _hate each other?_ That's sort of what their previous run-ins would suggest. Lance was just going with that because Keith was a dick and therefore easy to dislike. 

The look he wears when he glances back at Keith is nothing but incredulous. It softens some when he sees the other biting down on his lip, looking dubious himself, as if he too can't believe he just instigated more chit-chat between the two of them. But, hey, Keith asked, and Lance loves to hear himself talk;

"Defender of the Universe?" He's at least polite enough to pretend his skeptical look is because he's surprised Keith didn't know, and not that Keith spoke up in the first place. "You know, with the-the big space robot?"

Keith, apparently, doesn't know, because all he does is shrug in response. Lance just can't let this slide. In his opinion, the reboot is loads better, but it's fun to sit through the original for laughs.

"Got an hour?"

"Uh." An echo of moments before.

"You won't regret it.'

It's at that point that Keith pulls a face, one that suggests he's regretted every encounter with Lance thus-far and, for that reason, doesn't have high-hopes that this one will end any differently.

"Dude, c'mon, just the first episode." Lance pats the couch.  Keith already insulted him earlier by ignoring his presence, Lance doesn't want to let some sort of rejection happen again. His ego can only take so much. "I'll buy you a butterfinger after."

That actually WORKS. After a hesitant step Keith sits his ass down on the opposite end of the couch, waiting patiently with arms folded while Lance plugs in Hunk's Netflix account information.

 

Over the course of the hour, Keith begins to somewhat loosen up. Lance can only tell because he glances over every once in a while just to gauge the other's reactions. At first he seems totally unimpressed, but the longer it goes on for the more intrigued he seems to become. Appropriately, he laughs at all the cheesy moments, and the smile that remains once his laughter subsides is enough to have Lance grinning along.

Subtly he tries to study the man across from him more often, and to only himself he'll acquiesce that Keith's actually pretty attractive. Even the mullet just _works_ on him. So... yeah. A _bad start_. They had one, but that didn't mean they couldn't _fix_ it. Maybe try again. Lance keeps on replaying what Shiro had said over and over - _'it's been a rough week for him'_ \- and now that he knows Keith can _smile_ , and do it so WELL, he wants to fight to keep that expression in place. Cause, like, his eyes crinkle behind his glasses when he grins at the dumb animation, and somehow Lance is paying more attention to Keith now than the show in front of him.

At one point Keith mimics some lame-ass line, and he just looks so silly that Lance laughs not only at the dorky attempt, but because of the bubbly, light-hearted feeling in his chest.

 

By the time it's over Lance immediately dives into bringing up the reboot, talking way too much on all the things they'd changed, but Keith isn't stopping him. If anything, he seems intrigued. Lance stumbles over his sentence at one point, flustered by the sincere look Keith's staring at him with, but it doesn't seem to bother the other. He just continues to give Lance his undivided attention, and---well. Lance isn't all that used to being able to _keep_ someones attention for so long. People have normally tuned him out by this point. It's sort of why he doesn't shut up, because he craves that focus. Growing up in a house with four other kids, he'd had to do _something_ to get noticed - talking loudly and at length seemed to work best, so that method carried with him through the years---

but now here's Keith, looking at him like he's actually _interested_ in what Lance has to say, and he doesn't even have to fight to get his attention.

As he rambles on about the differences, he makes a list in his head, and aptly titles it  _'Pros & Cons of Keith.'_

 **Pros:**  
He knows how to smile and he can do it pretty well. Not bad. 10/10.  
That NECK. 11/10.  
Adorable sugar addiction.

 **Cons:**  
Mullet ( _he can rock it though_ ).  
Dumb glasses ( _actually kind of cute_ ).  
Stupid fashion ( _also kind of cute_ ).  
Rude asshole ( _but Shiro says he's had it rough lately, and I trust Shiro, so I'm willing to let this slide_ ).

Despite being fantastically distracted by Keith's soft, curious expression, Lance keeps conversation flowing pretty easily.  
So, of course, it's only inevitable that he ends up Fucking It Up.

"So who left the love-bite?"

This, clearly, is out of nowhere and downright unexpected. Keith blanches for a second, lifting a hand to instinctively cover the mark. But then he SMIRKS, and oh. OH. Is he TRYING to repay the favor, because now LANCE is the one speechless. The way Keith fingers that bruise and settles Lance with that _MISCHIEVOUS_ quirk of his lips is way more attractive than it has any right being. ~~_Dammit, Pidge_~~.

"Why? Jealous?"

"What? No---why would I be JEALOUS? Who would even want to suck _your_ neck?" A snarky retort is just his immediate reaction ( ~~ _so much for fixing their bad start_~~ ). But now that he's said it, the idea's in his head.

He imagines getting close, his mouth warm against the smooth expanse of Keith's neck. A pulse beating against his tongue. Soft noises rising with every scrape of his teeth---would Keith whimper?  
Aw, man, with _that_  voice, his whimpers are probably hot as _hell_ \---Lance would draw out as many as possible, taking a fistful of that hair to angle Keith _just right_ \---

"Your hair is stupid," he blurts. A pause. Then: "No one could be attracted to it."

It's weak. It's weak, but it's the only thing he can think to say, because he will NOT allow himself to entertain fantasies of (not-so) Douche McNozzle in _broad daylight_. Or at night, either. It should be noted that nighttime fantasies are a frowned upon as well.  
For the second time in as many minutes Lance has clearly surprised Keith with the dumb shit that comes from his mouth.

But then _Lance_ is the one who gets made confused, because after a beat the black-haired boy just starts to LAUGH.  
And, yeah, it's a natural reaction to feel GOOD when being the cause of someone else's amusement, so Lance thinks nothing of it when his heart _flips_  at the sound of Keith's laughter.

"I don't know," it's said once Keith regains control over himself, and he's giving Lance That Look again - the teasing little half-smile with the playful gleam in his eyes that his glasses do nothing to hide.

"It's the perfect length for pulling."

And.

Just.

 _What_.

At first Lance's reaction is to place his hand over his chest. Then he changes placement and relocates it to cover his mouth instead.

 _Did Keith just_ \---

Lance thinks then to move his hand down, down to cover his crotch, because HOLY SHIT the implications of that alone are enough to stir him with arousal.

Before he gets the chance, there's a vibrating noise from Keith's person, and moments later he's pulling a phone out of his pocket. The device gets met with a little glower, and---you know what? It's actually kind of CUTE when Lance isn't on the receiving end of it.

With the frown with which Keith looks at his cell, Lance almost thinks he's _not_ going to pick it up. ---But then Keith's doing exactly that, and he even stands up and WALKS AWAY to talk into it. He keeps going, going, all the way out the opposite door, and Lance just... _sits there_. Sits there, feeling confused - _was that intense moment not just_ _A Thing?_ \- and dissatisfied. For at least _three minutes_  he waits for Keith to come back and---he doesn't know. _FIX IT_ , somehow.

But that moment never comes. Lance is still just sitting in the rec room with his hand over his mouth, thinking too much on Keith keeping his hair that length just so someone WOULD pull on it.

He takes out his own phone, draws up the group chat;

 **[Lance]** pidge

 **[Pidge]** Yes?

 **[Lance]** you do not get to say 'i told you so'

 

Pidge DOES say 'I told you so.' Frequently, and with a lot of smugness. More than his friend's small stature should even be able to CONTAIN.

At one point she calls him, laughing gleefully into the phone, reveling in her apparent win.

But Lance's eyes have been opened to the Surprisingly Appealing Sexy Thoughts of Keith, so who's the _REAL_ winner here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH I love Hunk the most.  
> Keith in croptops in chapt 3. :)))  
> it's gonna get gay.
> 
> I should mention that I don't have a schedule for when chapters to this fic will be updated.  
> With my work schedule, and my fickle writing mood, I'm going to aim for AT LEAST once a week.  
> Hopefully by chapter 3 I'll have more of an answer for you guys.  
> ;w;


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out mullets aren't so bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hunk never curses and probs feels bad after saying 'crap.' Apologizes profusely for it. Meanwhile, nearly every other word out of Pidge's mouth is a swear.
> 
> Quiet reminder I don't have anyone reading these chapters before I post them. I apologize for any mistakes. I'm a dumb egg.

_'The perfect length for pulling.'_

 

 _The perfect length for pulling_. Had Keith seriously _said_  that,  _out loud_ , to  _Lance_?  
Of course he did, because Lance can remember it with startling clarity. The smirk on Keith's lips, the expression cast in his eyes that suggested he knew exactly what sort of thoughts the words would plant in Lance's mind. Dirty,  _dirty_  thoughts of being the one to card his fingers through those black locks, gripping tight and pulling, though not hard enough for the pain to outweigh the pleasure.

God, just baring that neck, moving Keith just how he wants him---no, no... Keith's probably the type who'd fight back, give him a little resistance, and  _that_  prospect makes the whole thing so much more  _hot_. Keith would be a  _challenge_ , for sure, and Lance has never backed down from one yet.

He's seen Keith scowl, seen him smile, but what  _other_  sorts of expressions could he draw out?

A groan rumbles in his throat.  
It's Saturday morning, he's tucked into bed, and he's got a hard-on from imagining some dude who -  _up until last night_  - he'd thought was a major Grade-A asshole.

A glance over to the bed on the opposite side of the dorm-room, and Lance is grateful to see it's lacking Hunk. Makes him feel a lot less guilty over what he's about to do.

After licking his palm Lance bites his lip in a poor attempt to keep back a smile born of anticipation, then slips a hand under the sheets.

The first brush of fingertips beneath the elastic of his boxer-briefs sends a jolt through him, warmth following its wake and heating him up from the inside. An exhale as he grabs his base, starting with long, slow strokes to work himself up. He's already half-hard, but with a little more TLC it won't take long to get all the way there. Instinctively his legs spread, and he imagines Keith between them, looking up at him from behind those dumb glasses. Imagines Keith in a sweater--- _only_  a sweater.  _Yeah_... and that  _smile_. That smile around the head of his cock, and Lance almost  _chokes_  as he tries to breathe in.

In his fist his cock twitches, and pre-cum dribbles down the side, slicking up his work and making every tug a smoother one. The hand wrapped around his erection speeds up, adding a little twist, and his breath catches again and  _again_. Expletives fall from his lips in the form of praise. Where it rests on his thigh, his other hand curls into a fist; he imagines grabbing for black strands, giving little tugs of encouragement.

Lance had definitely,  _definitely_  lied last night when he told Keith no one could be attracted to his hair. Turns out, mullets aren't so bad.  
_The perfect length for pulling_.

With a grunt he comes, painting his stomach and the inside of his boxers with warm white stripes. The ministrations of his hand continue, though slower, milking his orgasm completely out of him. He'd be embarrassed for how little time it took to climax, if only it hadn't felt so  _good_. Whatever. He's pliant and lazy from sleep, and it's not like he's got anyone he's trying to impress. With shaky breaths he revels in the bliss, lying still for some moments until it passes.

Then he's struggling with boneless limbs to get out of bed, staggering on into the adjoining bathroom to clean off.

 

-

"So, what... you guys are all  _buddy-buddy_  now?"

It's Hunk who asks him, making the inquiry after Lance tells him about how he and Keith bonded over a show the night before. They're hanging down in the canteen, catching some lunch together before their day inevitably sends them their separate ways.

"I dunno?" Animatedly, Lance waves around forkful of pasta. "He totally seemed to like my company,"  _that might be stretching a little_ , "but then just up-and-left after getting a call. I waited around for a bit, but he never showed back up."

"Didn't you, uh..." Hunk idly scratches the side of his head, trying to remember Lance's wording from two days prior. "---Didn't you  _hate_  him twenty-four hours ago?"

"Yes, but that's because I thought he was a douche. The ass had it coming."  _Now the ass just has_ him _coming_.  
"Huh." And Hunk does that thing where he pauses and just  _stares_  at Lance, like he's waiting for the latter to realize just  _why_  he and Pidge have started second-guessing the shit that comes out of his mouth. But the stare breaks so he can look beyond Lance, and with a gesturing nod of his head he starts;

"Well, maybe you can ask him where he stands on this whole thi---oh,  _shoot_."

At first Lance was interested in turning because Hunk implied that Keith had walked in, but the way his friend ends with that now has  _concern_  inspiring his movements. With a twist in his seat Lance looks back, and sure enough there's Keith---walking in and sporting a  _black-eye_. Shiro trots along behind him, looking for all the world to be fussing over the smaller man who's taking Absolutely None of It, smacking aside hands when they get too close. But Shiro is determined, ignoring the dark glares sent his way and seemingly trying to get Keith to just  _look_  at him.

Lance, meanwhile, just sits there and gapes. NOW he feels guilty - while he was getting his rocks off, Keith was probably suffering through the pain.  
He wonders briefly if whoever called Keith last night is the reason behind the bruise.  
If so, he'd have insisted on making the guy sit through another few episodes.  
In a daze Lance gets to his feet, carrying himself over the distance until he's right in front of Keith - whooo isn't even facing him. What makes him look ahead is the expression on Shiro's face ( _it comes when_ Shiro _looks at Lance_ ) and when Keith turns to see who put it here he just bristles.

"What---" Lance begins, raising a hand to gesture towards the bruise, but Keith immediately swats his arm aside.

"Fuck  _OFF_ , asshole."  _So, that's where they stand_. It's a growl, and Lance actually flinches back from the intensity of it, as well as the sight of the injury up close. It's just a bruise, no swelling; all deep purples that match today's sweater - it's yarn, again, colored with four blocky stripes of black, grey, white, and purple. 

"Keith," Shiro tries, and again does the dark-haired boy swivel to face him.  
"You too.  _Shit_. Just  _leave me alone_." And with that Keith's shoving past Lance, leaving him and Shiro to stare after him with expressions of worry and distress.

"Um."  _Lance and his articulate tongue_. He faces Shiro, seeking some kind of explanation. In response, Shiro merely sighs. His shoulders hunch; he looks exhausted. For some reason he's stressing over Keith, and it's clearly wearing him out. But Lance gets that - one day the dude shows up with a hickey, the next he's got a black eye?

If it's the same guy, Lance is going to find him and FIGHT him.

"I think he's being bullied." Shiro shares his concern, and Lance nearly snorts. Bullied? Like this is  _grade-school_ , not college, and people have  _time_  to spare harassing people in between all the stressing and crying? But then Shiro's glancing over to him with a solemn look, and Lance swallows. It's a serious situation, he knows, so he hangs his head and murmurs an apology.

"Sorry, it's not---it's not funny or anything, it's just...  _bullying_? Sounds so juvenile."

"Calling it flat-out abuse makes it all the more frightening.  _Bullies_  can be handled. The actions of abusers stick with you." There's a fire in Shiro's eyes, and when he speaks it's with firm resolution:   
"I'll find who's doing this." And man, he's  _sexy_  when he's determined. Lance just about  _swoons_.

 

Instead of heading back to Hunk, when Shiro leaves Lance makes a bee-line for the vending machine tucked against the wall. He spends two-fifty on a king-sized Butterfinger -  _this is why college kids are broke_  - and cautiously makes his way for where Keith is sitting, ALONE, some books and a small plate of mashed potatoes spread in front of him.

"Hey, uh," Lance starts awkwardly, only growing more nervous with the way Keith startles, then looks at him with this murderous glare. Still, he powers through, setting the candy bar delicately in front of Keith. It lessens his dark expression, but only by a little. "I still owe you for the episode last night."

That's where Keith's glower disappears altogether, leaving him looking a little baffled - like he'd forgotten all about their bonding moment and was just now being reminded of it.

"Oh, um..." for a minute he chews on his lower lip, ducking his head so his dark hair falls over the vibrant bruise on his face;  
"Thanks. For---the candy. And the episode. It wasn't as bad as I expected."

"Dude, I  _told_  you you wouldn't regret it." Getting ahead of himself now, Lance pulls out the chair opposite Keith and drops into it. "Next time, I'll show you the reboot." They'd talked about it some the night before (well, Lance talked, Keith listened). "The red one's totally gay."

Keith mumbles something that makes Lance blink. "---What was that?"

"I said,  _same_."

Lance takes a moment to just gawk at him.

For a few moments there's nothing but silence, and Lance hopes that his words hadn't come out sounding like it was a  _bad_  thing. It definitely wasn't! It was him expressing glee at representation! Well---okay, it was never explicitly stated that  _the red one's gay_ , but,  _c'mon_. He's totally got the hots for the blue dude.

Slowly, what with lack of answer, Keith's signature scowl falls back into place, and when he speaks up again his tone is laced with _fire_.

"If that makes you uncomfortable, you can  _leave_."

"No, no!" Lance is quick to throw up his hands, leaning across the table like he just might have to grab Keith by the face and force eye-contact so the other sees he's being honest. Luckily, the edge of said table stops him. That, and Keith tipping back like he  _knows_  what he'd be subjected to, were tacky furniture not in the way.

"I'm bi!" Lance exclaims, probably a little louder than necessary, and by the way Keith's eyes dart around, it's clear he's seeking out unwanted attention that Lance's proclamation might have garnered. In order to get Keith's attention back on him, Lance forces a little laugh;  
"Y'know, I mean, uh. If you asked me about  _my_  sexuality, I couldn't give you a straight answer."

That does it. Keith swings his gaze back 'round to Lance, and there's a second where his face is just totally blank---but then the corner of his lips quirk, and Lance's attention just  _zeroes in_  on Keith's mouth.

"You're bi?" It's better  _watching_  the words than  _hearing_  them. In something of a daze, Lance nods, then goes for dumb puns again. Anything to try and turn that quirk into a  _real_  smile.

"Yeah. Adam  _and_  Eve. There's a reason it's called the  _bi-_ ble." Of course, Lance is proud of the pun, but he knows that his humor is an acquired taste. Usually, the reaction he gets are groans. 

...So you can imagine his surprise when Keith  _laughs_. His shoulders shake, his eyes crinkle up, and just the  _sound_  nearly has Lance's heart flying out of his chest. But then Keith's drawing up a fist, covering his mouth with it and coughing into it and  _oh man_ , the fact he's  _shy_  about laughing just makes Lance all the more satisfied that he made it happen.  _It's a good day to be Lance_.

"That was  _terrible_."  _There's_  the reaction he was anticipating, but he's not bothered by it because Keith's  _smiling_  at him behind that fist. The bruise that colors his face can't take any of the beauty away from it.

\---Okay,  _that's_  a concerning thought. It's one thing to acquiesce that Keith's hot, another to find him so alluring that Lance rubs one out to thoughts of him, but thinking of Keith as  _beautiful_? Like, it'd be  _less embarrassing_  if Keith knew Lance jerked it to him than it would be if he knew Lance thought of him as  _lovely_. 

"Made you laugh." Ah, whatever. It's TRUE - Keith's got a face that Lance likes to look at, and he'll continue to make dumb puns if it keeps him smiling. With a shake of his head that would surely be exasperated were it not for the little grin still there, Keith turns his attention back to his books.

As surreptitiously as he can, Lance grabs for his phone, texting beneath the table;

 **[Groupchat >> Pidge Is Always Right**  
**Participants > Get Cr(h)unk (Hunk), Pidgeotto (Pidge), Sir Lancelot (Lance), Princess Mom (Allura)]**

 **[Lance]**  QUICK GUYS I NEED ALL THE BI PUNS YOU CAN COME UP WITH

 **[Pidge]**  Why?

 **[Lance]**  ITS IMPORTANT. I NEED HELP.

 **[Pidge]**   _You're_  out of puns for once? 

 **[Lance]**  SHUT UP PIDGE THIS IS URGENT

 **[Hunk]**  these will either be bad or really good... it could go two ways !

 **[Hunk]**  you could say... you get bi with a little help from your friends :)

 **[Hunk]**  i would give some in other languages, but i'm not bi-lingual 

 **[Pidge]**  Bitch begins with bi.

 **[Lance]**  WOW

 **[Lance]**  BI-BYE

"If you're busy," Keith's voice has Lance looking up so fast he nearly breaks his  _neck_. Amusement lingers in Keith's expression, and Lance wonders how he ever even looked  _away_ ; "you can go. I don't even know why you're still here---"

And, honestly, Lance doesn't know, either. He kind of ditched Hunk to sit with Keith -  _which, whoops! But a glance back shows Hunk already left_  - and he's got no reason why besides having owed the guy a Butterfinger.

"Maybe I just enjoy your company." It's a flippant answer, and Lance shrugs as he gives it.

Keith snorts. He  _snorts_ , and it's the cutest fucking sound to ever grace Lance's ears.

"Yeah,  _sure_. There's not a lot there to enjoy."

"Hey, hold up, your company is just fine. I mean---yeah, you're a hard pill to swallow when you're acting like a jackass, but you're pretty okay when you aren't glaring."

"Most people don't get  _past_  the glaring."

" _Keith_ , is this the sound of you being  _impressed_?"

"Shut up." It's a little silly to recall that, less than ten minutes ago, Keith had been calling him an asshole - now he's just  _laughing_  again. It's just a little chuckle, but it quickly dies down in order to allow Keith to look over with a rather perplexed expression.

In response Lance cocks his head, waiting for the inevitable inquiry he can practically  _see_  being prepared.

"---I don't even know your name."

That's not exactly what Lance was expecting.  
The words reach his ears and make him take pause. He remains frozen for some moments, trying to remember a point in which he had introduced himself---but nope, nothing. Shit.  _Keith doesn't even know his name_. He jerked off to a guy who  _doesn't even know his name_.   
... _But_ he got on the good-side of a guy who doesn't even know his name.

"The name's Lance," he finger-guns here, throwing in a wink for good measure. "But YOU can call me _Mr. Right_." Flirting is second-nature. The tone with which he gives it is over-the-top on purpose. He'd like to flirt with Keith _for real_ , maybe get him just as flustered as he made Lance over that hair comment, but Keith seems way better at it than him, and would probably laugh off any cheesy comments.

With a  huff of laughter Keith responds: "I think  _Lance_  suits you better."

 

They end up talking for a solid hour, up until Keith interrupts Lance's tangent on something with a declaration of, "alright, you need to go - I have papers to write and you're distracting me."

But Lance wasn't offended or anything, because Keith _also_ said; "Maybe we can watch more of that show sometime."

 

-

Soon as Lance exits the building his phone goes off in his pocket. Producing the device, he reads Allura's name on the screen and swipes to answer;

"Hellooo, Princess."

"Lancelot," her voice is dulcet and kind and accented. "Are you still interested in joining me tonight?"

"For that rave? Yeah, yeah. Just let me know where and when to meet you."

 

Turns out Allura's not planning to leave until nine in the evening, which leaves Lance with a handful of hours to kill. He decides to do so with Pidge, and heads on over to the robotics lab where he _knows_ she'll be. 

 

Intuition never fails, and when Lance pushes open the door to the lab it's to see Pidge hunched over the counter, tinkering with some tech piece. She doesn't look up, but still greets him with a distracted: "Hey, Lance."

"S'up, Pidge," he greets, stepping into the room. It's nothing more than a couple of rectangular desks at one side, and a wide open space on the other. Mechanical pieces, scraps, and half-built constructions sit on the desks. Two robots line the wall at the opposite end - Lance recognizes one of them, a flat-ish contraption on wheels with a metal tentacle-like arm in the center, a small three-pronged grasp at the end. Last time he was in here, Pidge made it throw grapes at him. "What'cha workin' on?"

"A control board for a new bot. I've been working on it since yesterday." Finally does Pidge look over her shoulder, directing a beaming grin in Lance's direction. He takes that as an O.K. to step closer for inspection. Except, when he actually stops at her side and looks over the amass of pieces, none of it actually means anything. He asks:

"Is my TV anywhere in there?"

"Not here. In the bot itself, though, yeah. I named it Rover. It's gonna _fly_."

Internally, Lance acquiesces that he doesn't mind SO MUCH over losing his TV if it makes Pidge _this_ excited. Her eagerness is contagious, and Lance finds himself mirroring his friend's grin. Though, his expression falls when Pidge's own becomes something smug;

"So, _Keith_?"

"Oh my GOD, Pidge!" Lance shrieks, throwing his arms up. " _Yes_ , you were right, he's cute!" 

"I know I was right." Pidge snorts, and Lance would think her arrogant if she didn't have the track record of _Being Right All The Friggin' Time_ to back it up. "I just like to hear you say it."

"Really? Because I can do that. Tell you about how his dumb hair now plays a big part in my fantasies. Or how I want to see if his smile tastes as good as it looks. You wanna hear about how I'd like to suck on his neck, and maybe other parts of his anatomy? 'Cause I can do that, too."

 About halfway through his spiel, Pidge begins to try shutting him up by waving her hands through the air, as though trying to swat away the words before they reach her.

"No, no, _gross_ \- keep your dirty thoughts away from me,"

"You asked for it, man." With his words comes a shrug.

"No, I'm pretty sure I didn't." And, again it's time to bring up that record of Pidge ' _Being Right All The Friggin' Time,_ ' because no, she _hadn't_ asked for it. "I'd only asked you if he was cute. I don't need the  _details_." In distaste she sticks out her tongue. 

"Yeah, well, you got it anyway. It's the price you gotta pay. Now, c'mon, show me _Rover_. I wanna see what you turned my TV into."

 

They spend the next few hours talking from _robotics_ to _aliens_ to _robots vs. aliens_ and before they realize it, it's seven PM, and they both have stuff to get ready for. Pidge gives him one last teasing jab about Keith, Lance makes some dumb remark in retaliation, and when they part it's with _smiles_.

 

-

Enter, Allura ( _occupation: senior **;** goddess_ ).  
Although she comes from a totally different social circle than Lance and his pals, he's not surprised that they're who she's made friends-for-keeps with. Look at them. They're _great_.

Still, there _are_ some times when Lance feels like he's unworthy of being in her presence - such as now, nine at night, when he walks outside of his dorm building to find her standing there in a strappy neon-pink dress, ending mid-thigh and shorter than her _hair_. Makes him feel over-dressed in a tank-top and shorts. She's a total knock-out, and Lance would totally hit on her if he wasn't afraid of, well, a _verbal_ knock-out. As it is, he's given up on trying to _seriously_ woo the woman. Attempts had been made in his junior year when they'd met, and then never again - aside from good-natured jokes, of course.

"All ready to go?" Allura beams when she sees him, and she stands away from where she's leaning back against her white car. It's a Nissan Altima - an early model. Old, but reliable. With a nod, Lance heads around to the passenger's side and climbs in just as Allura does- it's clean on the inside, like it's brand new, void of any decorations save for five small, colored baubles hanging from the mirror.

They jingle one Allura puts the vehicle into drive, and only settle once she hits a comfortable speed.

 

They fill the ride with amiable chit-chat, and before too long Allura's again parking, this time in a lot a block down from the club. Even from the distance Lance can hear the sounds - loud music, people cheering, a couple indecipherable shouts.

The noise only gets louder as they approach, and although there's a line Allura skips right ahead, smiling at the bouncer as he lets her and Lance through. First time that had happened he asked her why she was able to skip. She'd just looked at him with a soft smile, claimed she had many good connections, and left it at that.

Inside they get carded, they get wrist-bands, they get sent through another set of doors.

The big, open space that makes up the club is basically identical to all other nightclubs - flashy lights, too many gyrating bodies in the center, and an amalgamation of chatter that can't be heard well over the fast music. The song has a heavy bass, shaking Lance's bones in his body. People sift around them, wearing sweat and body paint and the least amount of clothing they feel comfortable with. Allura makes sure to keep a hold on Lance's hand, guiding him over to the bar and ordering them some drinks. 

"Not so bad, right?" She has to lean in close and practically _shout_ into his ear. They've only just arrived and Lance doesn't exactly have a solid opinion yet, but in order to put a smile on Allura's face he offers a thumbs up and a grin.

 

Following their first round of drinks Allura drags Lance onto the floor, leading him through a throng of strangers to get right in the center of it. It's loud, but not unbearably so, and Lance allows his tensions to fall away. The tightness in his body ebbs away, and when Allura moves effortlessly to dance to the beat, he follows her lead. They spin around each other, pulling silly moves in order to put a smile on the other's face, and their twirling results in them ending up on the far side of the dance-floor---

\---and that's when, beyond the heads of strangers, Lance sees him, off the actual dance-floor and hanging by the wall.

Keith.  
Fucking _Keith_.  
The grumpy guy who always wears grandpa glasses and sweaters that are way too big for him.

But now - _NOW_ \- he's ditched the massive sweaters for fucking _tight_ _red_ _booty shorts_ and a fucking  _fishnet crop-top_ that's sleeveless, but still wraps around his throat beneath a very visible, and very _appealing_ , Adams apple.

He's decorated with neon body paint, his hair's tied back, and he's grinding back on some guy's _thigh_.

Lance officially has enough new Fantasy Fodder to last him the rest of his college career.

"Holy shit." He breathes, and he knows Allura can't hear him, but she does stop dancing beside him in order to settle him with a quizzical look. 

All he can manage to do is stare ahead, his sight locked on Keith and _holy shit_ doesn't even _cover_ it.

The black-haired boy extracts himself from whoever he's dancing on, and with a lazy grin he turns to face them, unknowingly presenting his back to Lance. Lance, of whom drops his eyes right to the perfect swell of that sweet, _sweet_ ass. He isn't crying over how delicious it looks, really, there's just something in his eyes;  ~~ _it's tears_~~.

A grasp on his arm - Allura trying to get his attention - but Lance can't look away. From around Keith's thin frame Lance can see the stranger put something on his tongue - and then Keith _licks_ it from him. Makes it a goddamn _performance_ , putting his hands on the guy's chest and dragging him in to do it.

" _Holy shit_ ," Lance says again. He wants to be the man. He wants to be the man's TONGUE. 

The grip Allura has on him tightens, painfully so, and Lance finally breaks out of his staring to look at her.

"What is it?" She shouts at him, concern etched in her features.

"There's---" he starts, but it's not really something he can explain if he has to _yell_ it at her. So, he settles for: "Hot guy I know!"

Allura grins _devilishly_ at that and adjusts her grip in order to push him forward. Lance, however, digs his heels into the ground to stop her efforts. He can't just _go up_ to Keith! Especially not when he's with his---boyfriend...? Oh, shit. Something heavy and unwelcome drops into the pit of his stomach. That must be the guy who left the hickey, right? Dude doesn't look like he's all that much. He's tall, dyed white hair, wearing some stupid _bird_ hat, and he's _covered_ himself in purple paint. Jutting out his lower lip, Lance tries to find some redeeming quality. What did THAT guy do to earn Keith hanging off him like that? 

But, more importantly, is that the guy who left the bruise?

 _Now_ he lets Allura usher him along, and the first steps he takes forward are deliberate, but the closer he gets, well... he starts to slow. What does he plan on saying? It's not like he can just stroll on up with a, " _Hey Keith, nice to see you, you sexy motherfucker, is this the guy who punched you?_ "

Except, whoops, the purple guy noticed him. Catching Bird Hat's expression, Keith turns and notices too.

Lance is halfway through the ' _hey_ ' in his ' _hey Keith_ ' before the man he's addressing steps close, _really_ close, squinting like he's trying to decide if he actually recognizes him.

The following grin and cry of his name, " _Lance!_ ", says he does, and it has that very Lance feeling a lot better about walking over.

But what _really_ makes him glad is the way Keith _throws_ his arms around Lance's neck, and, _wow_ \---he'd never pegged Keith for a hugger. A little awkwardly, Lance draws up his hands, finding they rest perfectly on Keith's slim hips. _Christ_. The guy's _warm_ , a lithe, solid form that fits perfectly along Lance's own frame. It's easy to take notice of how well Keith slots against him, because the hug persists through the usual few seconds that hugs _normally_ last and all Lance can do is _think too much_ on it.

Now, he would be totally fine to stand like that all night - all _WEEK_ even, with Keith's arms draped over his shoulders, his hands on Keith's hips - but there's that purple guy who's just _smirking_ , and it's kind of inciting fear.

Lance coughs, trying to remind Keith of his _boyfriend_ standing right there.

...Yet he still very nearly _whines_ when Keith releases him. The only thing that stops him from doing so is the way all his attention goes into looking. _Ogling_ , really. He's stuck on all this new skin to look at, his stare traveling down Keith's neck - that hickey's starting to fade - to his collar, to his chest... the fish-nets do nothing to cover him. There's--- _Christ_ , there's two cute nipples his shirt does nothing to hide, and fuck just _college_ , Lance has got spank-bank material for _life_.

"Hey, uh--- _hey_ , Keith." The words come through a stammer, and Lance forces himself to look up before he goes _too_  low. "Nice to, uh. Nice to see you---"

 "You too. I didn't think you'd be the kind of guy to come to a place like _this_." Yeah, that's _exactly_ how Lance is feeling, too. Behind them, Bird Hat clears his throat.

"Oh, Lance, this is my friend Rolo," Keith gestures to Bird Hat. _Friend_? As in... not _boy_ friend? That's good! That means he won't feel bad when he jerks off later.

"Rolo," Keith continues, "this is Lance. The guy I was telling you about."

And **that** _really_ makes Lance freeze up because _whaaat_? Keith talks about him? He's dying to know what sort of things Keith says about him to his _not boyfriend_ , but Rolo just sticks out a hand with a lazy grin;

"Good to meet you, man."

And Lance shakes his hand and spits out, like a _fool_ : "Not boyfriends?" 

The responding chuckle from Rolo is, _admittedly_ , rather sexy. "No, just good friends," he confirms, smiling like he _knows_ something. 

That's a better answer than Lance could've hoped for, but it doesn't change the fact that Keith _licked his tongue_ and Lance is _jealous_. Is that---is that something Keith does with _all_ his friends? Cause, like, if so, Lance is going to need something to put on his tongue ASAP.

" _Rolo_ ," Keith calls for his _friend_ 's attention. "He's the one who showed me the-the space show. With the robot."

It's faint, but Lance can hear a slight slur to Keith's words. Somehow, this is concerning enough for Rolo to reach out and steady Keith by the elbow. 

Lance's jealousy comes back full-force, and he has to remind himself he's only known Keith for _three days_ , and hated him for two and a half of them.

"He sure did." Rolo drawls, then glances towards Lance; "Hey, I'm gonna go ahead and take him on home. It was good seein' you."

Disappointment now mingles with the envy, but Keith doesn't even argue, so Lance takes that to assume he's just fine with heading out.

"Yeah, sure. Uh, nice to meet you." 

With gentle encouragement Rolo guides Keith along, but before they pass Lance Keith makes sure to catch his eyes;

"You, me, rec room tomorrow. Episode two."

Before he's even aware of it, Lance is grinning. It earns a wide smile in return, and you know what? He's not even jealous of Rolo anymore, because _he's_ the one who just made Keith smile like that.

"Definitely."

With those parting words Keith disappears into the crowd with Rolo, leaving Lance alone with that dopey smile still on his face.

Allura breaks through the group after some moments and approaches him with a look of blatant curiosity.

"Holy shit." It's all he can say when she steps up to him.

The sound of Allura's laughter is soft, pure. "Things went well, then?"

Lance doesn't really have an answer for her, nothing he can sum up in just a few words. So, he just repeats himself;

" _Holy shit_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh I have no set plan for this  
> I'm just bullshitting my way through, smacking the keyboard and hoping Good Shit comes out
> 
> Keith's shirt is basically this: dqaecz4y0qq82.cloudfront.net/products/mt6707.jpg?preset=grid , but fishnet. This is obviously important and you all need to know.
> 
> As always, comments are much appreciated. they keep me smiling the entire day through. ;w;


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter from Keith's perspective.

The very first thing Keith notes upon waking is that  _he hates the entire world_.

There's a splitting headache spanning across his forehead, and though he'd LIKE to groan loudly in an expression of his displeasure, he refrains, if only because the thought of putting EFFORT into making any sort of noise is one that doesn't agree with him.

So he just lies there feeling  _miserable_ , letting other realizations slowly come to him.

There's an ankle hooked over his own, and the back of an arm draped across his side-ways form.   
Whoever's lying beside him is star-fished out, while Keith himself lays curled up on his side facing the edge of the bed.

It takes him a good five minutes before he risks cracking his eyes open, emitting a garbled  _'fuck'_  as he does.

Everything feels swollen. His tongue, his eyes, his  _brain_. Nothing sits right in his head, and it takes another five minutes before he dares to make any other motion. When he does, the action is a half-hearted kick to his bedmates leg.

From behind him, a low-groan from a voice recognizable as Rolo.  
Another weak kick, and Keith can feel the bed shifting as his companion pushes himself up to his elbows.

"Whuz goin' on?" Rolo drawls, dropping all pretense of articulate speech as his words spill out as one.

"Aspirin." Keith wheezes. "Ibuprofen.  _Water_."

"Uh, yeah," more shifting. The heat Rolo offered disappears as he moves to reach for the bedside dresser on the other side. "Looks like big bro left some here for you. Can you sit up?"

The answer FEELS like a no, but Keith fights himself into rising. As he does, he blinks slowly, looking at the floor of his room to avoid the faint light coming through the blinds of the window.

The floor's a mess. Shiro's been telling him for a while to clean it - or, well, he HAD been, but Keith's been avoiding their off-campus apartment in favor of staying with Rolo in his dorm room. The space he shares with his brother is far better than what the college has to offer, but with Shiro's insistence that they Need To Talk, Keith's been steering clear of sharing space with him as often as possible.  
Being pushed into talking makes him want to remain silent that much more. 

However, he's sure that at some point Shiro will pester him enough into opening up. It's been that way ever since they were kids.   
Keith was brought into Shiro's family, and though he'd tried so HARD to keep to himself, not expecting to be kept longer than a few months, Shiro had this unnerving ability to break down his defenses. He'd become someone Keith could confide in, although half the time he didn't even want to.

It's both a blessing and a curse.

"---eith? Keith?"

A blink. Slooowly, Keith drags his gaze over to Rolo, who's got splotches of purple paint on his skin and is holding a bottle of water in front of Keith's face. He gives it a little shake.

Keith takes the bottle with one hand, lifting his other to take two small pills from Rolo. Those are tossed to the back of his throat, washed down with a tentative gulp of water, and then Keith's slowly easing himself back down to his warm spot on the bed.

"Want me to go find Takashi?" Rolo queries, already rising from the bed. Keith can hear the distinct difference of his real foot and his prosthetic as he pads across the floor, likely seeking a shirt. "Let him know you live to make him worry another day?"

"No." He means yes, but he's stubborn and words are hard right now. 

"C'mon, Keith." Rolo laughs, a low noise. "Y'know, you're the reason he's got grey hairs."

"Lies," Keith spits, turning his face into the mattress and scowling against the sheets. "He's got white hair because he thinks it's cool. Just go find Captain Conscience so we can get the talking-to over with."

The sound of Rolo's laughter sticks with Keith even after the man has left the room.

This isn't the first time Keith's woken up in bed with Rolo. They've slept together plenty of times, in the most literal sense of the word. Despite their rather... touchy relationship, their feelings for each other are strictly platonic. They're friends. Just... the kind of friends who are intimate enough with each other to make other people think otherwise.

For example, Keith considers last night. He can faintly recall Lance seeking confirmation.   
_'Not boyfriends?'_  
The thought makes him smile. He doesn't know if Rolo made a comment after tucking Keith in last night;  _'he wants to get in your booty shorts.'_ or if it's just something that  _hope_  whipped up in his head. 

_We wouldn't both fit, but he can get me out of them if he wants._

In reality, Lance was probably just surprised that Keith is the kind of guy to grind up on someone he isn't dating.

Aaand now he's caught thinking about Lance.  
He thinks on the dumb boy's inability to leave Keith ALONE, pushing himself into his business with resolution, doing it again and AGAIN like he had any right to. At first it was infuriating, but Keith's realized it was perhaps done for the right reasons. Now Keith's finding it  _endearing_.

 _Apologize to him._  
A determination to appease conflict. 

 _I still owe you for the episode last night._  
Holding up his promise, AND lifting Keith's mood with a candy bar.

And then there's just the fact he's CUTE.  
It's the first thing Keith had noticed. Tanned, clear skin; soft brown hair; long fingers and bright eyes that looked up wide and beautiful at him for their first encounter.

But then, of course, he'd opened his mouth and ruined all of that.  
Or perhaps it was entirely Keith's fault? Considering all previous relationships, that's a likely possibility.

It's not like he can help that he's no good with strangers. They make him uncomfortable. That's not to say he can't interact with them, he just... doesn't do it  _well_. He makes an effort to keep everyone at arms-length or farther. Saves a lot of trouble that way.

Yet, Keith has no trouble getting touchy with people he's _familiar_  with---which surely comes as a  _big surprise_  considering how brusque he is with strangers---so, yeah. He can admit he'd like to get to know what Lance's dopey smile tastes like.

But as it is, he's got more boy trouble than he wants to deal with; more than he wants to bring someone else into (not that that stopped him from dropping flirty comments, as every quip from Lance had him eager to reply with some snarky return; see: ' _the perfect length for pulling_ ' ).

First example of his boy trouble:  _Shiro_.

From his position on the bed Keith groans pathetically as two pairs of feet enter the room, followed by the pattering of paws.  
The paws belong to Tonkatsu - Shiro's shiba inu - who hops on the bed and makes himself comfortable by Keith's feet.

A soft weight settles on Keith's leg, and when he opens his eyes it's to see Shiro ducking down into his line of vision. There's concern etched in his features, but it's layered beneath some sort of amused scorn that only adults chastising children can manage to express.

"Learned your lesson?" He asks in a tone that Keith certainly isn't very fond of.

"Yes." The lie is said as a grumble, and Keith closes his eyes again, trying to hide in his pillow.

Shiro, however, isn't having it, and continues to speak knowing Keith won't be able to block him out entirely.

"Maybe take it easy next time?"

"Maybe mind your own business?" It's not that he _wants_ to be a sassy little brat with Shiro - it's not as if his brother deserves it - he just doesn't have the patience nor mood to deal with any admonishing.

He loves Shiro and he appreciates the concern, but all their interactions as of late have ended in arguments, and Keith just doesn't have the energy in him for things to escalate.

Well, that's not entirely true. One would argue that Keith's always ready to fight, but he hates doing so with _Shiro_.

"Got news for you - you _are_ my business, kiddo." Shiro reminds, easing himself down to sit at Keith's feet. A rustling and slight rise of the mattress suggests that Tonkatsu moved to sit upon Shiro's lap. "All I'm saying is take it easy next time." The tone of his voice is calming, like he doesn't want it to turn into a quarrel either.

"Sure." Keith grunts. "Easy. Next time. Thanks for the talk."  
For as much as he doesn't want to squabble, he can't find it in himself to take the bite out of his tone. The pissy attitude remains from their last dispute, intensified by the headache pounding on all sides of his skull.

An exhale from Shiro, and with a groan Keith's finally sitting up to settle him with a hard glare. There's no anger in it, just a petulant furrow of his brows that suggests he's irate at not understanding what else it is Shiro might want from him.   
Or, at least, that's what it's meant to be. His head is foggy and unresponsive, so it's entirely possible his muscles are just making him pout.

"I don't know what you want me to say." 

"Exactly what you said, just with some sincerity. You don't make it easy to look out for you."

Keith's mouth opens to retort, to snap back that he doesn't need Shiro watching over him, he can take care of himself just fine, but then he catches the look on his brother's face and any snarky remark dies in his throat.

There's sympathy in his eyes, underneath brows drawn together by concern. The downward cast to his lips portrays hurt, and Keith feels like an ass.

He's never asked for Shiro's help in anything, but that's because he's never had to. Shiro's just always been there for him, through all the shit, even when Keith was being an extraordinary _dick_. The man is nothing if not infuriatingly selfless, and when it's only the two of them left with each other, all of that _Mother Hen_ ning goes right to Keith. The reason Shiro's so protective and overbearing is most likely for his own benefit as much as Keith's. Like if he knows that Keith's okay, he'll be able to sleep well at night. Or something.

Remorse flashes across Keith's countenance, and he ducks his head, dark bangs covering the shame coloring his face.

Though he hates unloading his problems onto other people, this is his _brother,_  and he's always been there to save Keith from whatever trouble of the week he found himself in.

Like that time when Keith was ten and he pissed off the older neighborhood kids.  
Or that same year when he broke an important picture frame and didn’t want to fess up, but had glass shards in his arm to prove him guilty.  
…Or when he was eleven and he pissed off those older kids again.

And then when he was twelve, and they'd lost their parents, and Shiro took a break from school to pick up three jobs to support himself and his younger brother. 

Though he'd been adamant on disliking Shiro since he'd first got adopted into the Shirogane family at age eight, the older boy had been deadset on never letting anything bad happen to Keith. He'd laughed it off when a bratty Keith had pointedly vowed _"I won't be with you long,"_ had followed him every time he tried to run away, had insisted he DID care when Keith cried out that no one did.

And all he's given back over the years has been nothing but grief and a poor attitude. 

When he lifts his head, it's to find Shiro still wearing that frown, and Keith mirrors it before tipping forward to knock his forehead to Shiro's shoulder.

There's still some shit between them he doesn't want to address any time soon, but he IS sorry. So, it's time to apologize.

"Sorry." And the tight way he says it should properly convey his real sincerity now. An arm reaches around him, and though the prosthetic should be cold, Keith feels nothing but warmth from where it hooks over his arm.

"I forgive you." He never tells Keith ' _it's okay,_ ' because it ISN'T, but at least he has his brother's forgiveness.

A beat, then from the corner of the room comes Rolo's voice, and when Keith lifts his head, it's to see him standing by the lizard terrarium, holding a black cat that's dangling fluidly in his arms.

"Are we still talking about the party last night, or...?"

From where she hangs in Rolo's grasp, Momoko yowls, squirming some until the hold relents and she's free to drop to the floor. As soon as she bolts out, Tonkatsu leaps off Shiro's lap to bound after her. It's more commotion than Keith cares for so early ( _it's noon_ ), and with an incoherent grumble he lets himself fall back to the bed.

Wearing now a smile, Shiro rises from the bed and faces Rolo; "We've moved past that. C'mon, help me make breakfast for cranky-pants?"

"Ass." Keith curses into his pillow, but the noise is covered by Rolo's agreement of: "Sure, man." Yet  as the older Shirogane leaves, Rolo moves to lean over the bed and smack Keith's thigh. "Dunno if you forgot, but you kinda told Lance you wanted to see him today." 

Whip-fast, Keith twists to look at Rolo, and the action sends his head _swimming_. "I--fuck, I _what_?"

"Yeah. Somethin' about episode two? Guessin' it's about your robot show."

With a rumbling noise in the base of his throat Keith settles back, screwing his eyes shut. He definitely doesn't feel like he could go anywhere for, like, a _week_ , but... maybe he could risk it. The show isn't that great, but Lance seems to enjoy it. 

...---Not that he's going to see Lance. That'd be stupid. The guy's attractive, and maybe he's quick to make Keith smile, and MAYBE his stupid humor is kind of endearing, but Keith's already sworn off boys for the foreseeable future. His brain's on board, it's just his heart and his dick he's having trouble with.

No, he's only considering still going because he doesn't want to stand Lance up; doesn't want to give him any more reason to think bad about him.  
"Did I say when?"

"Nah. That's about when you started gettin' woozy, so I brought you back. You can take my key, go hang in the dorm for a bit, see if he comes 'round." 

Judging by the noise, Rolo's set his building key on the bedside dresser on Keith's side.  
"A'ight, I'm gonna go help Takashi. Shout if you need somethin'."

A halfhearted wave from Keith, who wonders if there would be any real repercussions to staying in bed for three whole days.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a couple of you expressed concern at Rolo being a bad guy,  
> but... no... listen... i love rolo so much.... he's such a wonderful boy.. my heart
> 
> talk to me abt all the brogane feels i have


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life happened. im so sorry for my disappearance folks.  
> here's a chapter ;0;
> 
> Also - some of you figured out that Shiro's dog's name means 'pork cutlet' and i'm so happy you found out.  
> There's a whole story behind it. I love this dog.
> 
> Another mention, I have no beta.  
> If you see a mistake, don't mention it because I will feel bad and probably cry about it. Spare me.

In the end, Keith only remains in bed for another hour.

Half because the scent wafting in from the kitchen smells wonderful, and half because he keeps picturing the way Lance had smiled last time they watched  _Defender of the Universe_. These two factors inspire him into rising with a grumble, twisting and arching his body to work out the kinks that have nestled between his bones. After adorning his glasses he pads over to the terrarium spanning half of one side of the room. Keith greets the iguana -  _Godzilla_  - and makes sure he has enough leafy greens to keep him satisfied.

Following the check he slips on some sweats over his boxer-briefs (they've got little dinosaurs on them) and carries himself out to the kitchen where his brother and friend are setting down food on the table.

Rolo perks up immediately, looking to Shiro with a lopsided grin; 

"You owe me six bucks."

Shaking his head in what could be read as _fond_ , Shiro fishes around in his pocket and passes over two bills. Then meeting Keith's gaze, he explains:

"We made a bet on when you would wake up. Oliver here said it would be under two hours."

Keith arcs a brow; "And you?"

"Noon."

"It's  _past_  noon."

" _Tomorrow_."

A snort from the dark-haired boy, then he snatches a pancake from the plate on the table and eats it plain.

"I'm going out. Gotta grab a few things from Rolo's dorm. Is it okay if I borrow one of your sweaters?"

Shiro seems to suspect the lie, but doesn't call him out on it. Probably because of Rolo's nod of agreement, as if to say they already planned to fetch Keith's things.

"Are you ever going to return it? ...And all the others, for that matter?"

It's a reasonable question. Keith's been taking and hoarding his brothers sweaters for some time now - he thinks to the beige one, the star one, the asexual pride one---

"Yeah," then, quieter; "maybe."

Shiro doesn't seem to hear, and instead nods to Tonkatsu, who follows Shiro's every step, sitting when the man stands still for even just a  _second_.  
"Take Katsu with you? He can sit in the car while you grab your things." 

 In response, Keith shifts his weight, trying to come across as casual as possible. ...Which fails pretty miserably, as he finds he can't meet Shiro's gaze.  
Shiro knows he's lying, but _Keith_ knows Shiro knows, and is only using the dog as a means to further prove it.

"I don't think so. We might be gone a while - grabbing lunch and all that. Could be a couple hours til we get back."

The reply it garners is a low _hmm_ from Shiro, though he (thankfully) refrains from questioning further.  
Though, Keith's pretty sure it just means he'll ask about it later - if he doesn't bug Rolo about it first.

The two of them are fairly close (though less than _Keith_ and Rolo), having met back at a support group intended to assist those adjusting to grievous injuries and subsequent trauma.   
Keith's not quite sure what it was that drew them to each other, but he's glad for it, whatever it may be. After all, it's through Shiro that he met Rolo, and the two of them hit it off instantly, despite Keith's wariness towards most people. He doesn't make friends easy; an effect of his aloof demeanor.   
But it's just that---his outward appearance. Truthfully, Keith's not as cold as he seems, he's just bad at expressing himself. Any attempts in being _genuine_ typically results in him coming across as a jackass, all because his blunt honesty is not what's considered _'socially acceptable'_ or even _'polite, Keith, what the hell it's not that hard.'_

There’s a reason he only has five contacts in his phone (one is _‘Shiro,’_ another is _‘Shiro Home'_ ).

But Rolo and Keith's startling friendship is a circumstance that Shiro is certainly on the fence about, considering it's part Rolo's influence that keeps Keith out late partying. Yet, it's also Rolo who always makes sure to get Keith home safe and sound. 

Snagging another pancake, the dark-haired boy swivels on his feet, nearly tripping over Momoko (who meows loudly her disapproval) as he makes for Shiro's room, making a mental checklist in his head of all the sweaters his brother owns.

As he goes, Shiro calls after him something about not staying out too late, to which Keith replies with a snarky remark of, "you can't tell me what to do, _little brother_."

 

~

 

It hadn't been an issue until that morning, which is when Lance actually remembered it---  
Keith never told him when they could meet up.

To top it off, he had no way to contact Keith to ask. Wasn't like he could knock on every damn door  in the dorm and ask for a grumpy-but-actually-really-cute mulleted guy at ten AM on a Saturday morning. Well, he COULD, but everyone recovering from their Friday night would hate him more than they already do after his whole _Milk Dud fiasco_  from two months ago. 

So all he really CAN do is just head down to the rec room and... wait.

 

And wait.

 

 _And wait_.

 

He's been down there for nearly two hours, flicking through Netflix and his phone, shooting memes back and forth with Pidge and then sending them to Hunk with no context.  
At first he'd assumed Keith's absence was just because he'd been out late partying (and knocking on all the doors was getting more plausible the later it got), but as it rounded twelve-thirty he considered the very real possibility that Keith was just standing him up because he was, in fact, a jerk. 

Okay, he wasn't ACTUALLY a jerk, it's just that Lance is starting to feel like a fool waiting around so long, and only jerks keep people waiting, ~~never mind that they hadn't set a time to meet~~.  
Toying with the idea that Keith was just being cruel was better than entertaining the thoughts that he was avoiding Lance because Lance was _annoying_.  
Look, he's dealt with that enough - and, like, Lance KNOWS he can be a little too much sometimes. Too talkative, too loud, too obnoxious, but it's not like he can STOP - it's just how he is. On multiple occasions Hunk's had to assure him that he's not 'too much,' he's just 'a lot,' but he's still fun to be around and can easily brighten the mood of a room.

And yet, even with the positive reinforcement from his friend, Lance can't help but to recall all times he's had to laugh off someone telling him to 'tone it down,' like it hadn't actually bothered him; hadn't made him want to close his mouth and watch his words.

\---No, _fuck that_.

Puffing out his chest, Lance steels his jaw and internally chastised himself---  
he is fucking _awesome_. A delight, a _ray of sunshine_ , hilarious and charming.   
If Keith can't handle him and his _dazzling character_ , than he could just go and fuck himself.  
Lance doesn't need that kind of negativity in his life.

Though he still perks the fuck up when Keith strolls into the rec room.

"Hey, man!" He chirps, throwing an arm over the back of the couch, peering over his elbow to direct a grin at Keith, whose attire for the day consists of black sweatpants and a sweater that's design seems to be nothing but a shiba inu's face, the image distorted some what with the sleeves and the way it hangss loosely in baggy fabric over Keith's frame.

Keith, of whom raises his hand and offers a little smile.  All animosity from their relationship seems to have dissipated, so Lance doesn't feel the least bit guilty when his mind oh-so kindly reminds him of what he'd gotten up to after getting home from the party, after seeing Keith in such a state of dress. _I know what your nipples look like_.

"Hi, Lance. Sorry I'm... late?" He sounds unsure, likely because he's not actually late considering they hadn't set a time, but it's pretty obvious that Lance has been waiting, so an apology feels necessary.

"No big." The words come coupled with a flick of Lance's wrist. "It just gave me time to set up the episode. You ready for this?"

When Keith rounds the couch with a nod, Lance responds with a grin. It's only when the other is sitting does he comment on the sweater;

"Man, where do you even GET these?" With a little laugh, he dares to break the bubble (hey, Keith HUGGED him last night, this is nothing) by reaching out to take the material of the sweater in his hands.

With his smile becoming more of a smirk, Keith glances down at his clothes and answers simply:

"Shiro."

It's only for a second, but the answer has Lance pausing. He blinks. Then, "What?" It becomes a conscious effort to keep the little smile on his lips.

"Um. Shiro," Keith repeats, looking a little confused now, like he's wondering how Lance might've heard him wrong when they're the only ones in the room.

Aiming for nonchalance and missing by a kilometer, Lance lets go of Keith's sweater and seeks out his gaze; "How did you get Shiro's sweaters?" 

Keith tips his head forward a bit, one brow arching, as though what he's about to say is common knowledge and _'how did you miss the memo? Did you check your email's spam folder?'_

"Uh... we _live_ together?"

Lance's smile becomes as fake as his Aunt Candice's personality.

"You... you live with Shiro."

"Yes."

"And you wear Shiro's clothes."

"Yes?" (Like the proof isn't already on his body.)

Suddenly it (mostly) all makes sense. Why Shiro's always doting on Keith, looking out for him and assuring everyone he's not as much of a dickbag as he makes himself seem.   
It's because they're DATING. They're in love and they're dating and probably have a garden and maybe Keith wears an apron when he cooks and Shiro always says 'honey, I'm home' when he gets back and they talk about their hopes and dreams and spending the rest of together forever and---wait.

"---Does he know about your partying habits?" He stage-whispers. The nature of someone else's relationship is no business of his, but his curiosity usually wins out over his common sense. 

Keith colors some, and Lance tries to dial back the very loud 'awww,' that sounds in his brain. 

"Yeah, he knows."

"And he's... okay with it?"

"More-so than he was at the beginning. Um. What's it matter?" Now Keith's squinting at him, like he can figure out why Lance is asking if he just stares at the nervous expression on his face long enough.

Lance is just wondering if this means he can still jack it to Keith without it making him a Piece Of Shit (though lets be real, he probably wouldn't stop, not when his orgasms as of late have been _so good_ ).

"Uh. No reason."

"You don't think less of me, do you?"

When Lance looks over again, it's to see Keith has his lower-lip caught between his teeth. He looks sincerely anxious over what Lance's answer might be, so much so that the latter raises his hands to wave them through the air between them.  
"What? No! For Rolo? No. _No_. Look, man, so long as everyone involved is aware and happy, what's the harm? You're adults. You can make your own decisions. Do what you wanna do, man. ...Do WHO you wanna do, so long as there's consent all around."

Lance is talking about Keith and Shiro.

Keith thinks he's talking about him and _Rolo_.   
It doesn't occur to him that he never explained their queer-platonic relationship has no real undertones of romance.

Releasing his lower lip, the smile returns to grace Keith's expression. "Thanks. A lot of people don't really understand it. I'm... glad you're cool about it though, Lance."

Gently, he places a hand on Lance's bicep, causing the other boy to tense and make an awkward 'ungh' sound.  
(So, open relationship? All this touching? Could Keith be interested in getting close to Lance like he is with Rolo, because Lance would be SO down for that. Maybe it hasn't been reiterated enough, but on top of everything else, dude's got _the cutest nipples_.)

"Yeah, man, no problem." If his voice is a pitch higher, Keith thankfully doesn't comment. "Let's just, uh. Get this episode going, yeah?" 

There's a bit of fumbling with the remote, but finally the episode gets started, and for its duration they're both uncharacteristically quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, in this fic 'Rolo' is just a nickname, and his real name is Oliver.
> 
> also keith takes any and every chance to remind Shiro of how many REAL birthdays he's had.
> 
> quiet reminder this is semi-slow burn?  
> there's for sure dirty dirty fantasies, but no real feelings for a lil bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr @ platonicpaladins eyyy


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